


Sweetmeat

by RedRia



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alcohol, Artist Gerard Way, Awkward Gerard Way, Basement Gerard Way, Birthday, Candy, Drug Use, Kissing, M/M, Nerdiness, Punk Frank Iero, Sassy Frank is sassy, Secret Crush, Sloppy Makeouts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-12
Updated: 2018-08-12
Packaged: 2019-06-25 20:40:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15648546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedRia/pseuds/RedRia
Summary: Gerard is a man of few words: an introverted, 21 year-old aspiring artist who exclusively wears paint-stained clothes and has no business hanging around in underground clubs.Frank Iero is a punk, sassy barista with a loud mouth and a strange passion for candy and pretty, quiet boys.





	Sweetmeat

Mikey Way was one persuasive motherfucker.  
  
"Just one beer", he had said, puppy eyes sparkling underneath his glasses. "Please? It's your birthday."  
  
Gerard Way was quite an impossible kid to persuade. Hell, it was even hard to get to talk to him at all. Over the course of the previous 6 months, his sole interactions happened with 3 people: the grocery store lady. His mother. And his annoying, hormonal, beloved younger brother, Mikey.  
Also, Gerard Way detested his birthday.  
  
-"You're turning 21, man, don't you wanna order your first legal drink?"  
-"There's live music, you don't really have to talk."  
-"Maybe you'll even meet somebody. A weird, misanthropic dude just like you."  
\- "Gee? Gerard? Hello?"  
  
After an hour of pleading, sighing and knocking at Gerard's creaky basement door, it finally opened up to reveal what he had been doing that whole time.  
Standing awkwardly still, one single pink sock on his right foot and hair all over the place, Gerard wiped his hands on his t-shirt, staining it blue.  
" 'was working."  
"Happy birthday, moron." Mikey half-smiled.  
  
Mikey had quickly grown used to his brother's emotional and physical lockdown, but he was also concerned with it. Gerard was waiting for a bunch of phonecalls that were likely to never arrive, from companies that would likely use the hard work from a young Jersey artist to wipe their greedy asses.  
But Gerard had been waiting in the basement for six months, running to the phone every time it rang. That meant he was still hoping.  
  
 Mikey thought hope was good.  
  
"What can I do to get you to shut up?"  
"Come with me to the club, and get one single drink."  
Gerard sighed, blowing dark strands of hair away from his face.  
"And NO other way at all?"  
Mikey just shrugged, his eyebrows wiggling and his mouth curved in a dorky grin that made the older brother groan in frustration.  
"Fine. Whatever. I'm going to complain so hard you're gonna be wanting to go home."  
"That sounds frightening, Gee" Mikey squealed like a scared little girl, then turned his back on him to leave triumphantly.  
"Mikes?"  
"Huh?"  
  
Gerard nibbled at his lower lip, hesitating before he asked the one question that had urged him to open the door in the first place. "What did you say about, uhm, finding somebody? You're not bringing me to a gay club, are you?"  
Mikey shook his head, chuckling under his breath. "Way better."  
*  
  
To be fair, the place they eventually got in later that night was totally better than any gay club Gerard had ever been in.  
The crowd of people chilling on the couches, jamming on the dancefloor and smoking outside didn't make Gerard feel like the usual out of place, alien-hermit creature he usually resembled in clubs like this one. It was dark, loud, and industrial. Nobody seemed to stare at him. Everything felt fine.  
Mikey elbowed his side, waving at someone in the distance: "Wanna come over there? There's a bunch of friends of mine we can join."  
"Uh.. I'll catch you in a second? Let me grab a drink first." Mikey nodded, finger-gunned him and disappeared in the crowd.  
  
He scratched his head, heading to the counter and making eye contact with a curly haired bartender.  
  
"Hi, can I get a-"  
A loud voice coming from a weird, small hidden room behind the counter cut him off, startling him.  
"Oh my fucking God. RAYMOND? Can you PLEASE fuck off and let me do my job?" The guy with the curly hair, who clearly was not an actual bartender, couldn't help but chuckle a wheezy, silly laugh.  
"Go tune your fucking guitar or whatever, shove it up your ass if you prefer."  The owner of the voice got out of the tiny storage, but Gerard could only see his petite frame from the back, as he gathered a bunch of bottles from a shelf into his arms. "But stop stealing all the liquor and think I don't notice. I'll kick your face."  
"Hey! I always tip. That is no stealing."

The shorter guy grunted, putting the bottles away and finally shoving the storage door closed. Then, he turned around.  
"Honey" he stated solemnly, taking a cherry lollipop out of his mouth with a loud smack of lips. "Sucking my boss' dick ain't tipping."  
  
Gerard wanted to laugh, he really did. But there were a couple of issues. Namely, his poor social and communicational skills. But most of all, the fact that the guy in front of him was on some unreal, un-earthly level of hotness.  
He was young, short and with an obvious temper: he had the face of somebody who lives with one eyebrow raised in mild sarcasm at all times. Gerard had to stop himself from staring at his fierce, hazel eyes, or at the ring on his lip. Or at his tattooed neck. Instead, he kept his gaze foused on the t-shirt the boy was wearing, which had the word "cunt" sharpied on in capital letters.  
He knew he had to find out who this kid was.  
  
"Sorry 'bout that, sugar. Needa order?"  
Gerard's eyes widened inadvertently at the pet name, shifting back to the bartender's face. The young man smiled at him wide and toothy, loudly chewing on some hot pink bubblegum.  
"Yeah, I... Just some gin tonic."  
As he turned and leaned forward to grab a bottle, Gerard could not keep his eyes from trailing down to the young man's lower back. Jesus. Was that a tramp-stamp in bold, cursive lettering?  
  
 "I like your shirt." Gerard shut his mouth, cursing himself as he realised he didn't mean to say that, it was his hormones. But the candy-loving kid seemed to be caught in pleasant surprise, looking up at him for a moment while skillfully mixing the drink.  
"Right? No one ever does. Everybody's all about this 'free speech' bullshit, ya know. Until I show up in this shirt, and suddenly I'm 'being offensive' and 'totally ruining the atmosphere at church' " He air-quoted dramatically before laughing alongside Gerard. "I like your shirt too. Painter?"  
Gerard looked down at the acrylic-stained polo shirt he had worn for the previous two days, scratching his neck. "Uh.. Artist. Mostly comic books."  
"That's fucking dope." He handed the drink to Gerard in exchange for a 5 dollar bill. "Well, I just dropped out of art school."  
"How come?"  
"To play guitar full time."  
Gerard raised a confused eyebrow, shooting a quick glance at the surroundings.  
"I know, I know! I'm a fucking bartender." He popped the lolly back in his mouth and turned his back on Gerard, urgently searching some drawers. "I make, what, 20 bucks per show? It's not like I have an option. But I'm hopeful. Hey, I have a break in 5. Got any weed?"  
  
*  
  
"So what's your band called?"  
  
The loud sounds from the club only reached as muffled background to their voices. They had been chatting for a while, standing at a corner far from the crowd, clutching to their light jackets as the air got colder. The short guy was talkative, witty, and a total nerd. Gerard didn't want to jinx it or whatever, but he actually felt at ease.  
"Pencey Prep. We're not big or anything, but I really believe in it. Think we might actually have something going on."  
Gerard took the joint he was just offered from the kid's tattoed hand and inhaled sharply.  
"Well, finger crossed for you then, uh..."  
"Name's Frank" he grinned.  
"Gotcha. I'm Gerard."   
"Gerard?" Frank tilted his head, his sharp jaw tightening as he fiddled with his lip ring. He kept scrutinizing Gerard with a playful look on his face, until he declared: "Yeah, you look like a Gerard." Frank stole the joint from Gerard's mouth, getting dangerously close. "Artsy, quiet, awkward, hot. That's a whole ass Gerard over there." He exhaled a cloud of smoke from his nostrils, his chuckle sounding in equal parts like a stoned dude and a little girl. Gerard, on the other hand, lifted one corner of his mouth and kept quiet, his shoulders resting on the wall and his eyes on Frank.  


"So, _Gerard_ " Frank said lowly, leaning in without breaking eye contact "I got one question for you."  
"Go ahead"  
"Do you like candy?"  
Gerard furrowed his eyebrows, struggling to play it cool and keep his breathing quiet and steady. Frank's cheeky grin and insolent look only suggested that the kid was up to no good.  
 "I...yeah? I guess. Why are you asking-"  
   
His answer was cut off mid-sentence, as Frank got on his tiptoes and kissed his lips, making Gerard whimper ever so slightly. His hands trailed up Gerard's chest to go settle on the sides of his neck, thumbs gently caressing his pale skin.  
It took a moment for Gerard to start processing what was going on, the weed and the excitement making his thoughts a blurry mess. He parted his lips, allowing Frank deeper into his mouth, smiling as Frank mewled a barely audible little moan.  
Frank smiled against his lips, grabbing his jaw as he used his tongue to push the gum he was chewing onto Gerard's mouth. For a split second Gerard was fucking confused. Did this hot dude he barely knew just spit chewing gum into his mouth? And most of all, why was he so damn aroused by it?  
Frank placed one last, sloppy kiss on Gerard's closed lips and suddenly broke contact, leaving Gerard breathing heavily, the insides of his mouth tasting like strawberry. In complete awe, he watched Frank wipe his own wet lips and chin with a thumb, grinning playfully.  
"Hot fucking damn." Gerard whispered as he scanned Frank up and down through long eyelashes, smacking the gum he was gifted.  
  
"Gotta head back, sweetmeat. See you around maybe?" He was pressing his body on Gerard like an attention-craving kitten, hands running up and down his arms.  
"See you around."  
"Oh, and for the record" Frank said casually, his back facing Gerard as he was walking away. "Happy birthday, Gerard Way."  
"Huh? What?"  
Frank never turned his head, but Gerard could clearly hear him giggling like a kid.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a lil something that I wrote last night and I thought would make a fun series to write! What do you think of the set up and the characters? Comments and kudos are hot stuff :-)  
> It's all love  
> xx RR


End file.
